The Sins of the Past
by FrostWyrmUltimatum
Summary: A turn of events has lead a young Argonian to Skyrim. In this frozen land, he'll encounter new friends and enemies, and face the past, which he tries to hide.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

Middas 12th of Mid Year

_The city burns around me. The screams of the dying fill the air. Why am I here? Why is _it_ here? The dragon flies over Helgen, destroying buildings and spewing out fire. A see a young boy off in the distance. He is trying to drag his wounded father to safety. I rush to him, but the dragon spews hellfire at the two. I didn't want to hear the screams anymore._

_The dragon roared. There is a thud, and I stagger as it lands close to me. It begins to speak. "Watch, mortal. Watch and learn as this city burns. This is only the beginning." Fire begins to spew out of its maw. "More cities will burn, and your world will end." My heart pounds in my chest. This can't be happening! Then, I was washed in a torrent of flames._

I woke up with a start. Just a nightmare. I sat on the edge of my bed. I needed fresh air. I got up and headed outside. The cold Skyrim air greeted me. Hadvar was next. "Having nightmares too?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I was back at Helgen. I don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, at least we're still alive, right?" He was trying to cheer me was leaning on the support beam on the porch, still in his sleepwear. He managed to clean himself off from the dirt and soot and grime that came from Helgen."By the Eight," he said to himself, "All those people..." Perhaps he still felt bad for all of those people.

"I hope you're right," he seemed to trail off, thinking about something. "Hey, listen, I've seen your fighting ability, and I just wanted to say, the Legion could use someone like you." He must be thinking about us fighting our way out of Helgen. We had to deal with StormCloaks along the way. Not to mention some spiders and a bear.

"The Legion also tried to kill me." The visions of the block filled my mind. The dragon attack started right before the headsman took my life. Apparently, crossing Skyrim's border is punishable by death.

"Look, I know it's hard, almost being killed by the Legion and the next day fighting for them, but we need to end this war. You could be a great asset to us." He was really trying. I guess he had high faith in me.

"I don't know. I have no interest fighting in a war., or for the people who almost killed me. I'll have to think about it."

"It's alright if you don't want to, but I know you'll make the right choice in the end." He seemed more like he's reassuring himself of that, but I doubt the StormCloaks would want an Argonian fighting their battles for them anytime soon. I remember those times in the past when the Nord warriors doubted my ability. They thought I could never be a warrior. I was... 15, then? Three years later I'm in their homeland. Funny.

Hadvar was quiet for a moment. "Hey, what happened to your hand?" He was referring to my left hand. It was missing the small finger and the ring finger, due to a certain event from a long time ago. Now they're just stubs. Flesh is still kind of gnarled under the scales.

"Lost them in an accident a while back. Funny, I can't seem to recall how, though." It was a lie, but information like that was too personal to tell.

Luckily, he believed it. "Damn. That must've been rough on you."

"You get used to it after a while. I can still write with it."

"You can still swing a great-sword as well."

I nodded in agreement. Great-swords come as a specialty to me. "I'm going to see if I can get some more rest. Long day ahead of me."

"Well, goodnight then. I'll be out here a little longer."  
>I turned to go inside. I flopped on my bed again, and drifted off.<p>

Turdas

I ate a quiet breakfast. I didn't feel like talking to Hadvar's relatives. His uncle, Alvor, still did not seem to believe our story about the dragon attack. He would keep asking Hadvar questions about the attack. His daughter, Dorthe, was still asking questions about the dragon. His wife, well, she seems to stray away from me. Good. After I finished eating I stepped outside their house and into Riverwood. I had some loot from Helgen that I wasn't able to sell yet, so I headed into the Riverwood Trader.  
>Inside, a man and a woman, from the looks of it, they could be siblings, were arguing.<p>

"How many times do I have to tell you, Camilla? I will not let you go after that claw! It's too dangerous!"

His sister responded coldly. "Well, how else are we going to show them justice? You always let people push you around Lucan!"

Camilla groaned in exasperation, and stomped upstairs, mumbling and cursing to herself.

Her brother, just stayed where he was: behind the counter. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. She just a little moody after our store's been robbed. Might be her time of the month... Anyway, my name is Lucien, and welcome to my store!"

"I did not need to know that. I'm just looking to sell a few things." I dug around in my pack for a bit, procuring several items. "What was stolen? A claw of sorts?"

"Yeah. A couple of brigands broke in a couple of nights ago and took this claw. It was made of solid gold! No lie!"

"Must've been pretty valuable." I put the last item down. An enchanted hood I took off a dead mage.

"Yeah, but that was the only thing they took. We had more valuable items, so why they only took the claw..."

"I might be able to get your claw back."  
>"Oh, you could? That'd be great!"<p>

"If I find it in my travels, I'll see if I can get it back to you."

"Thanks for your offer. Now I can give you... 300 septims?"

"I'll take it."

After that. I saw Alvor working at his forge. A decent blacksmith, he was. I remembered I still had that Imperial armor I salvaged from a chest. I was thinking of getting me a set of Leather armor. Might do me better.

Alvor saw me approach his forge. "Hey, Argonian..."

"Please, just call me Jirassi."

"Okay then... Jirassi. I need to ask you something. If that dragon attacked Helgen, it could return at any moment. If it decides to attack Riverwood..."

"This town would be obliterated. You don't have any guards, anywhere?" When I first got to this town, I noticed the lack of guards here. That could explain why thieves were able to break into Lucien's store and swipe the claw...

"No. That's what you're here for. We need to warn the Jarl about this. I want you to go see the Jarl, Balgruuf, and see if he can send a few guards out here. If you can do that, I'll forever be in your debt."

"I'll do what I can. Now, I'm looking for a decent set of Leather armor..."

I got outfitted with new armor. Light enough that I can move around, and thick enough that arrows can't deal much damage. It was afternoon by that time. I decided to head out. But first, directions. I found Hadvar drinking at the inn, the Sleeping Giant. It was run by a married couple, a lazy man and a woman who took it to herself to keep a close eye on me at all times.

"Hadvar. I'm heading to Whiterun soon. Could you tell me how to get there?"

"Hm? Oh, right. I keep forgetting you're new here. Yeah, just follow the road north. It's not that far of a walk. You can't miss it."

"Thanks."

I packed my things before I set off. I set my weapons in their scabbards and holsters before I set off. My weapons: an iron great sword, a shortbow with iron arrows, an iron war axe, and an iron dagger. Hopefully my adventures won't be that dangerous. I'd really like to be able to relax for once. If nothing else gets in my way.

**This is my first story, so I could appreciate some constructive criticism. I couldn't find a way to describe the main character in first person view, so his description is as follows: black scales, curved horns on the side of his head, dark red hair, the horns on his jaw are painted dark red, as his his neck. Curved horns make up his brow. He is of thin stature, and slightly shorter than other Argonians, due to his young age. Just to note as well, this character is also imagined with the Argonian Raptor feet mod in the game. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Wolf, a Giant, and a New City

The wolf caught me completely by surprise. It had been a few minutes after I had set out of Riverwood. A few feet down the road, I heard the sounds of claws clicking on stone. I had just turned around when it pounced. I managed to raise my hands in time to stop the wolf from tearing out my neck as I fell to the ground. It snapped at me, trying to reach my unprotected neck. Warm slobber landed on my face. I released my left hand and fumbled for my dagger. I found the hilt, pulled the blade out, and stabbed the wolf in the side of the head. Warm blood soon seeped out, and coated my hand.

I pushed the wolf's body off of me, and took a few moments to catch my breath. I heard a light footfall to my right, and I turned to see a Khajiit, just staring at me. He wore hooded robes, reminiscent of those a monk would wear. It seems he's been here a while now.

"Thanks for the help," I mumbled sarcastically. I shook my hand to remove some of the blood, then wiped the spit off my face. That was too clean we for my liking. Damn wolves.

"Too much magic can be dangerous. M'aiq once had two spells and burned his sweet roll."

"Excuse me?" His quip just confused me. What on Nirn was he talking about? At least I found out his name. Most Khajiit seemed to love reciting their own name.

"M'aiq carries two weapons, just to be safe. What if one breaks? That would be most unlucky."

By now, I'm pretty sure he'd been hitting the skooma. Nothing he said made any sense at all.

"M'aiq is tired. Go bother somebody else now."

Good. I didn't want to listen to him anymore. One could go mad listening to him. I retrieved my dagger, and took a moment to skin the wolf before setting off. A while later, Whiterun was in my sights, and soon enough, I passed its resident meadery. It was at a farm that I heard the commotion.

There was a thud, and a war cry. Upon further inspection, I saw a giant locked in combat with two warriors. I had never seen a giant before. I had heard of them being in Skyrim, but to see one with my own eyes. Several arrows were lodged in it, so I figured an archer was nearby. One of the warriors, a woman in Hide armor, barely dodged a swing from the giant's hammer. A man clad in steel swung a great sword at its knee. They looked like they needed help, so I charged in with my great sword in my hands.

I first hacked at its ankles. The skin was fairly tough, and my sword was low quality, so I barely got a cut in it. The giant raised his foot. I rolled out of the way as his foot crashed down on the spot I just was at, my tail almost crushed under the foot. I got his attention now. He swung his club at me, and I ducked under it, returning with a jab in the thigh. A few more arrows sunk into his back, and he turned away, searching for the archer. The other warriors were still poking and prodding at the giant. The heavily armored man swung his sword at the giant's inner thigh. It made a deep cut, and the giant smashed his hammer at the ground in revenge. The man just got out of the way.

We continued this exchange for a while, and eventually, the giant was slain. I had to roll out of the way one more time as the giant fell towards me. I plunged my sword into the ground and leaned on it, a bit winded from the battle. The two warriors sheathed their weapons and turned towards me.

"We had that under control. We didn't need your help." The man didn't seem too happy I assisted him.

"Relax, Farkas," the woman started. She was dark skinned, and had short, black hair. "He was just trying to help."

"And he did a good job, too." Another woman, this one in Hide armor, reinforced with a strange, ancient metal, had just gotten in view. She had a bow strapped to her back, along with a nearly empty quiver. She was the archer, no doubt. She was red-haired, and three green claw marks were painted across her face. "We could use someone like him, don't you think, Farkas?"

"I'll admit, he did do well. Though your sword is of low quality, is it not? You had trouble piercing the skin of the giant."

"Nevermind about the sword," the archer redirected the conversation. "His skill with the blade could out-pace a seasoned warrior! He could make a decent Shield-Brother."

"Shield-Brother?" My brow arched up at the term.

"An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't. I just got here."

"We are an order of warriors. We show up to solve problems if the coin is good enough."

I looked at the dead giant. One of their problems, then. How much gold does giant slaying go for? "So, what? You guys are like the Fighters' Guild, then?" I trained with the Guild for a while, but I guess I made my leave when I arrived in Skyrim.

"Not quite, but close enough, if you're into that kind of work. If you're looking to join, go to Jorrvaskr, in Whiterun. Seek out Kodlak Whitemane. The old man's got a good sense of people. He can look in your eyes and tell your worth." She turned and started walking towards the city. Her gaze met mine once more. "If you go to him, good luck." And she went off.

The other warriors walked away as well. The dark skinned woman paused. She noticed my left hand. "Damn," she muttered to herself, "Maybe we can use someone like me you." At least it wasn't that damn question again.

Shortly after they were gone, I decided to get a better look at the giant. A giant... never seen one before, only heard of them. It was massive, obviously. If he were standing, I assumed I would have been a little bit past his knees. He wore a simple loin cloth, and his massive club lay inches from his hand. He was pale, probably a few shades lighter than a vampire's skin.

A man, I assume he was the owner of the farm, stepped to my side. "Damn giants. I was lucky the Companions showed up in time." He was Imperial. He wore a belted tunic, and had a slight build to him, a result of many years of farming, I guess. "I own the farm, here. I was just starting the day when I saw the bastard. Luckily, he only trampled a few crops..."

I lost track of him there. I was busy thinking about home. I had only left for Skyrim 3 days ago, and now, I survived a dragon attack, and helped slay a giant. Cyrodil... home... An uneasy word to use. I had lived in Cyrodil for about 10 years, ever since my parents...

"What happened to your hand?" The question snapped me out of my thoughts. Gods damnit. I quickly came up with an excuse for missing two fingers. Maybe I can make my escape here.

"Lost them in an accident... look, I have to go." I quickly walked away, thankful I didn't have to talk anymore. I made my way past the stables and to the main gate. A pair of guards were standing at the sides. One of them noticed me.

"Look, the gates are closed due to talk of the dragons. It's best if you just clear out of here."

"I need to speak to the Jarl. Riverwood may be in danger."

"I already told you, we aren't letting anybody in. Go back the way you've come."

These guards were starting to annoy me. "Listen, there's a town over there," I pointed towards Riverwood, "And it has no guards posted inside. If it's attacked by a dragon, what chance does it stand?"

"Look, lizard," the guard spat the word out. It was obvious he wasn't ready to let an Argonian in at any moment. To him we're just filth. Damn Nords and their racism. "We are under direct orders from the Jarl to keep out visitors. If you have a problem with it, so be it."

"Damn your orders! That town could be destroyed at any moment! Have you been to Helgen? I was right there, when a dragon obliterated it!" I remembered the fire, the screaming... My hands balled into fists, nails digging under my skin. Blood seeped out, slightly coating the nails. My voice dropped as I made my final point. "Riverwood could be destroyed in a matter of seconds, and innocent lives could be lost. Will you actually let that happen? Or will you get the hell out of my way?"

"Just let the lizard in, already!" The other guard spoke up. "If what he says is true, then we should let him in." He didn't want to start a fight. Not today. Thank the Hist for that.

"Fine," the first one remarked bitterly, "But we'll be keeping an eye on you. Don't do anything stupid, or we'll throw you into the dungeon ourselves." He grudgingly pulled out a key and unlocked the gate. He pushed it open, and gestured for me to go inside.

Whiterun was... unique to start. The very first building was a blacksmith's shack. A woman was working the forge out front. There were two paths to follow, both leading to different areas. I found myself in the market area. A few stalls were open, the owners preaching about their goods. There was an inn there, along with an apothecary and a general store. Some of the friendlier guards said the owner of the general store, a Breton named Belethor, was a sleazy little man. I think I'll find out what they mean, later. It was growing late, and I wanted to see the Jarl before dark.

I passed the heart of the town: a center where a giant tree resides. Unfortunately the tree seemed to be on its last stretch of life. To the right was an oddly shaped building. Inquiring about it led me to learn it was Jorrvaskr, the mead hall the red-haired archer from earlier wanted me to visit. A flight of stairs led me to the palace, Dragonsreach.

"Here to see the Jarl?" A guard asked when I approached the giant doors leading inside.

"Yes. There are important matters that need to be discussed."

Under his helmet, his gaze was disapproving, but he gave me a break. "Alright then, show your respect to his grace, and you'll be fine."

The palace was beautiful. Inside, I could see this place was well managed. An expensive looking rug led me to the stairs, which then led me to the throne. Two large tables, adorned with utensils and plates, surrounded the central fire pit. A fire had already been started, and I could feel the heat emanating from it. It sure beats the cold Skyrim weather. Behind it, was the Jarl. He wore fine clothing, cloth which surpasses any other style I've seen. To his left, an Imperial. His steward, perhaps? He wore fine clothing as well. Him and the Jarl seemed to be locked in conversation, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. To his right, a Dunmer woman. She glared at me as I walked up, and stepped forward to stop me.

"What's the meaning of this interruption? The Jarl is not receiving visitors." Her voice was cold. She was obviously his bodyguard. She had Leather armor, and her hand rested on the hilt of a sword, ready to release the blade at a moment's notice.

I had to hide the anger swelling in me. I hated the Dunmer so damn much. "I need to speak with the Jarl immediately."

She might've noticed my anger towards her, but she didn't show it. "What do you need to speak with the Jarl about?"

Not this again... "The town of Riverwood may be in danger. A dragon attacked Helgen and..."

Her sword was released and held against my neck. The woman had a scowl on her face and she hissed into my ear. "What do you know about the attack on Helgen, and where did you get the information from? Answer me!"

For some reason, I was unfazed. Even with a sword to my throat, I spoke calmly. "A dragon had attacked and destroyed Helgen. I was there myself when it happened, and I barely escaped. There's reason to believe Riverwood may be in danger..."

"Irileth!" The Jarl's voice boomed in the hall. "It's alright, let me hear what he has to say."

Irileth glared at me for a few seconds, then sheathed her sword. Her gaze just screamed, "I'll be watching you."

I stepped up to the throne, not knowing what to do. I never had encounters with royalty. The Jarl must've sensed it as well.

"It's alright, my boy. Now tell me, what's this about Riverwood being in danger?"

"Well..." How do I begin this? The question burned into my mind as I thought of what to say. "A dragon attacked Helgen. Alvor believes Riverwood may be next."

He seemed to think for a second, take all the information in. "Alvor. The blacksmith, if I'm not mistaken. Not prone to flights of fancy... And are you sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't a Stormcloak raid gone wrong?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Had a great view of the dragon from where I was at."

"By the gods... Irileth was right!"

He resumed the conversation with his steward, this time about whether or not to send troops to Riverwood. The steward mentioned the Jarl of Falkreath, how he might think Whiterun was joining the Stormcloaks and attack him. It ended with the Jarl telling Irileth to send a detachment to Riverwood. About damn time.

The Jarl turned to me again. "Well done, lad!" He started. "You sought me out, on your own initiative! You have done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it."

"Ehhr... thanks? I think I'll be going now."

"Hold up, now. There is something else you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let's find my Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into this matter related to dragons, and... rumors of dragons."

A job? I doubt I could just refuse the Jarl, so I walked with him to a different room. This one was filled with soul gems, spell books, and things of the like. A man wearing blue robes was reading a book by an Enchanting table.

"Farengar." At the sound of the Jarl's voice, the wizard closed his book and stood up. "I think I've found someone to assist you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him in with all the details."

Lydia

This new stranger to Whiterun interested me. He was Argonian. He had a small frame, but was carrying a great sword and a bow on his back. He had black scales, large, bright green eyes, and curved horns protruding from his head. He had maroon red feather-like hair, and curved horns along his brow. The horns along his lower jaw and his neck were painted a dark red. The claws on his feet made a noticeable click when he walked. One claw on each foot stuck up in the air, never seeming to touch the ground. He looked to be young, but also carried the look that he has seen too much. I couldn't understand why, but he seemed to carry a deep resentment for Irileth. I heard stories about Dunmer capturing the lizards and selling them to slavery, so maybe...

Another thought crossed my mind. What was an Argonian doing in Skyrim? They were cold-blooded, they didn't like the cold at all. Sure, there might be some Argonians here, but they were a rarity. I've only heard of some in Windhelm or Riften. And what did he need with the Jarl?

I heard him say something about an attack on Helgen. I heard the rumors: Helgen was destroyed in an attack, but by who... Some people say a dragon did it, but that's just preposterous! Dragons haven't been around for ages.

Irileth then held her sword against his throat. I've never seen her like this. She was always strict, but she seemed like she was ready to kill this... youngling. Maybe she sensed the resentment. No... that wasn't right. He must've had important information. Something that might not want to be revealed to the public just yet...

"Irileth!" The Jarl's voice boomed in the halls, "Put your sword away! Let me see what he has to say." All I caught were a few tidbits of information. The most notable one though, was the news of a dragon attack on Helgen. By the gods! Dragons seemed to have disappeared ages ago, ever since the Dragon War killed most of them off. If the dragons are returning now, what does it mean for us?

The stranger had finished his business, and Irileth had gone to send a few guards to Riverwood. The Jarl dragged the Argonian to Farengar's study, probably to help him with that dragon project he always goes on about.

"Lydia! You can't do your duty if you ogle at every man you see!" Proventous snapped me out of my thoughts. We have a shaky relationship, we don't get along very well. "Honestly, Lydia, you were staring as if you liked him!"

"Oh please, Proventus! ! I'm just curious!" It wasn't affection, no. The lizard was... interesting. Argonians are a rarity in this land: they don't seem to fare well in the cold. "He seemed young, didn't he?"

"Ugh! By the Eight you're ridiculous! I don't know why the Jarl holds you in high regard."

I just rolled my eyes, and that was that. Soon enough the lizard was off, on an ill fated quest for a stupid stone. Something suggested he might return. I don't know... it seemed he was something more than just a youngling. He was something more... powerful. As I ended my shift and went to rest, the last thing on my mind was what I meant when I said that.

**Remember to leave a review, so I can see what I can improve on! Thanks for reading my story!**


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